


Mother's Day

by missdibley



Series: East Of The Sun, West Of The Moon [19]
Category: British Actor RPF, Magnus Martinsson - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Wallander (UK TV), Wallander - All Media Types
Genre: Existing Relationship, F/M, Feels, Smut, The Night Manager - Freeform, wallander - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 17:53:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6817978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magnus and Halla's bedtime routine takes a slow, sensual turn at the end of a long Mother's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mother's Day

Upstairs in the nursery of an old house on the northwest side of Chicago, Magnus Martinsson sat reading a book to his children. Though two year old Håkan was too young to read the words in the old copy of  _ Bunnicula _ , he liked the drawings of the soft vampiric rabbit that appeared on its pages. The toddler and his older sister, 10 year old Magnolia, laughed when Magnus employed different exaggerated voices for each character.

The evening was cool and quiet, the perfect end to a warm and sunny Mother’s Day. Down the hall, Halla sat in bed, the covers pushed down so they covered her feet. Dressed only in a pair of underpants and one of Magnus’s old shirts, she kept warm with a glass of red wine. She had meant to unwind with some fan fiction downloaded to her Kindle, but instead listened to the sound of her husband reading to their children with the baby monitor that sat on her bedside table.

_ “It’s a tomato, all right,” said Mrs. Monroe. “Here are the seeds.” _

Magnus affected a high-pitched whine when speaking as the mother, leading Halla to wonder if that’s what he thought she sounded like.

_ “But it’s all white,” Toby observed. _

_ “And look,” said Pete, “it’s dry.” _

Magnus made the brothers sound curious, and just a little worried.

“That sounds gross,” Halla heard Maggy say in a disdainful tone. “Who’d want to eat an old dry tomato?”

“MATO!” Håkan yelled, his voice followed by the sound of his hand smacking the page. “MATO!”

“Well, that answers that, sweetheart.” Magnus chuckled, cleared this throat, and continued.

The pleasant drone of his voice, working in concert with the red wine, made Halla feel pleased with herself. This despite having not done a single thing all day except enjoy her family catering to each of her reasonable whims. Breakfast in bed? Yes. Slow amble through the farmers market with Moomin their wire fox terrier? Yes. Lunch at Lula Cafe, where they permitted well-behaved dogs and their families to sit on the patio? Yes.

She went back to her own reading, idly scrolling through erotic stories about her favorite actor Samuel Longfellow. Taking another sip of wine, she soon became engrossed in a tale where an android version of him fell in love with a human girl on a space station. Halla didn’t look up, so engrossed was she, when Magnus came in muttering to himself.

"Whoever heard of a vampire bunny… draining the carrots… well, that’s clever, I suppose.”

Magnus tugged off his socks, shed his sweatshirt and got under the covers barechested with just his pajama bottoms. He picked up the copy of  _ High-Rise _ on his nightstand but didn’t open it, instead peering at the ceiling while he pondered.

“If given the choice, why wouldn’t Bunnicula have chosen a beet over a carrot? Beets are so much sweeter, aren’t they.” Magnus frowned before tossing the book away, then looked at his wife.

It had been a sunny day, the latest in a week of good weather, and so Halla had a little color in her cheeks, her arms and legs. The t-shirt she wore was an old one of his, with the neck cut wide so it was more comfortable to wear while sleeping. One of her shoulders was exposed by the altered garment, and looked to him to be very ripe and tantalizing.

“I mean, if  _ I _ were a vampire rabbit…”

Magnus considered Halla as she sat beside him. Oblivious to this inspection, she was biting her lip in concentration while she read her story. He knew that she was reading fan fiction again. Magnus did occasionally tease her about her lascivious taste in late night reading material. That being said, he was secretly pleased that the object of her fan fiction desires was a near carbon copy of himself.

The previous week, he sat patiently while Halla squealed through the latest installment of “The Evening Concierge.” The program starred her favorite British actor Samuel Longfellow as former Special Forces agent Stephen Elm. Now the handsome evening concierge of a luxury hotel in the Middle East, Elm was pulled into the exotic, shadowy world of international drug smugglers and traffickers. There were explosions and tense confrontations, bouts of sensational violence interspersed with love scenes involving a small parade of beauties who were either doomed or emotionally damaged (though not so much that they could not be enticed to bed). Magnus didn’t have to point out how shallow it really was, an old-fashioned bit of spy vs. spy lurking under the gloss of prestige afforded by the BBC. But he couldn’t fail to appreciate how handsome and debonair the actor was. He chose to take it as a compliment every time Halla gave him a knowing glance then kissed him at the end of each episode.

Magnus took a deep breath, turning to his wife as he brought his hand to rest on top of Halla’s right thigh. Her legs out in front of her and crossed at the ankle, she didn’t respond to his touch. She continued to read, twirling a lock of hair around her index finger. He scooted in close, resting his head on her shoulder, and did not say a word.

“Kids in bed?” Halla murmured. A swipe of her thumb, and the Kindle displayed the next page.

“Mmm hmm.” Magnus looked at his hand as it slid slowly up her thigh. “What are you reading?”

Halla paused for a moment. “You know what I’m reading.”

Magnus shook his head. “I don’t. That’s why I asked.”

“Well.” Halla turned her head to press a kiss to his brow. “It’s fan fiction.”

“Did you write it?” He kissed the crook of her neck.

“No,” whispered Halla. “Not this time.”

“You haven’t…” Magnus began to nibble on her earlobe. “You haven’t written in a while, love. Writer’s block?”

“Not really. More like, an unintended break. Oh…”

Halla’s eyes fluttered shut as he continued to kiss her, making moues against her warm skin. She set the Kindle down on the mattress beside her, just on the edge so it fell with a soft, nearly imperceptible thud to the floor. Her thighs fell slightly apart when Magnus’s hand sought out the warmth of her sex.

_ “Käraste.” _

He teased her, with his fingers as they brushed her mound. So too with his lips that nibbled at her mouth. Magnus lifted his head so he could look at her face. Even in the dim light of her bedside lamp, he could still see the glint of the few strands of silver hair among the black waves that fell around her face.

“Lie back.”

She did as he commanded, eyes still shut, and murmured her approval when he offered the crook of his left arm for her head. His right hand remained in place between her thighs. When Magnus pressed his mouth to hers, he began to trail two of his fingers along her slit. She was wet, had been almost as soon as he had not so innocently asked her what she was reading. Magnus could feel the shiver when he touched her, how her breath quickened just as his did.

They had a house and two healthy children. Together almost twelve years, they were middle aged and stable. How could it still be so easy for them to become undone by each other? Time may have aged them, made them mellower. But it had not dulled their senses, nor dampened their lust.

Halla cupped his jaw in her hand so she could bring him in closer. She whined when he resisted at first, taking only a moment before he dipped his head and tugged her bottom lip between his own lips.

“Oh Magnus…” she sighed.

“Hush.” He kissed her tenderly on the cheek. “Soon.”

Magnus kissed her, massaging her tongue with his own or flicking just inside her lips. At last he slipped two fingers inside of her sex, pumping while his thumb took their place on her clit. Swallowing Halla’s cries of delight, he stifled his own groans of pleasure. He could feel her tighten up from within, matching the eagerness in her voice as he brought her, ever close, to the edge.

He moved down, just a little, so he could swirl his tongue around the nipple of her left breast. Magnus was feeling drunk, on the taste and the heat, the scent of his wife whose hands were now tugging on his own curls. He returned to her, let himself be kissed and be guided so his hands were now pushing off her knickers, tugging off his own pajama bottoms until at last there was nothing to separate them.

Halla took his cock in hand and brushed it against her clit. They swore in unison, at that delicious agony of such a brief and intense connection. And then they swore again when he entered her, quickly so he could press his body up to hers. So he could hold her, bury his face in her hair, and be still. For a moment or two until his hips began to move, and there was that heat, that liquid heat of her cunt that enveloped him and felt so good.

It was awkward but Magnus managed to shift his weight a little, so he could slip his hand back to that tender bundle of nerves. Slowly, still so slowly, he rubbed Halla’s clit while his hips pumped faster and harder. Bodies damp with just a little sweat, weird fleshy sounds every time she rose to meet his. Their sounds, their bodies, their heat.

The heat was always the same. A prickle on the back of the neck when she let her fingers rest there. A flush of the skin wherever her lips happened to land. And then it was inside, sinking from his belly into his cock, and the only way it could be relieved was to yield to her.

Though he had been making love to this woman for over a decade, Magnus always lost control. He knew Halla’s body, how to make her come, but she knew how to please him too. How to take him in her mouth, tease his cock with her clever tongue until he was begging to come. Her soft hands which now grasped his ass and pulled, himself down and herself up. The sound of her voice murmuring his name, endlessly. Forever.

He made it. Magnus opened his eyes as soon as he could feel her clenching around him. Heard her whisper “Magnus, I’m close. Oh god, yes. Fuck me. Harder. Just… just like…” so he looked at her face. Halla’s face was pink, pupils dilated in eyes so dark he instantly lost himself. Her legs now hooked around him at the hip, Magnus now gained purchase with both hands planted by her sides. He kissed her again, just as the crest of her release hit. But he was still tense, still thrusting and moving, in and out, the tension of this act wracking his back and his buttocks until at last he ceded all control and came, hard and long, inside her.

The weight of his body, still heaving and sweating, was considerable. He wasn’t a heavy man, but Magnus was tall. His arms were long and muscled, but not so considerable that Halla couldn’t take his hand in hers, then bring it to her lips for a gentle kiss.

“I love you, Magnus.”

Magnus kept his head tucked into the crook of her neck.

“Halla,” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“Thank you, love.”

“Try and see Samuel Longfellow beat that,” he smirked.

“Ass!” Halla laughed before kissing his cheek. “You’re so much hotter than he is.”

“I thought you said we looked alike!” retorted Magnus.

“Yeah, but,” mused Halla. “You do this jaw clench thing that just…”

“Oh?” Magnus lifted his head. “You mean… this?” He mugged at her.

“Now you’re being silly!” said Halla dreamily.

“Not sexy?” He pouted.

“Maybe just a little,” she relented. “A lot silly, a little sexy.” She peered into his wide blue eyes. “All Magnus.” She kissed the tip of his nose, then nuzzled his cheek. “And all mine.”


End file.
